Sara (19 page)

thirty

A cool breeze drifted across Sara’s face and stirred her from a troubled dream. Dark images of a half-filled grave fluttered away on the wind as she sat up and shook off the chill of a late afternoon. She held her hand out toward the sky and counted three fingers between the sun and the horizon it was seeking. That meant she had forty-five minutes until the sun would set; just enough time for her to hike back to the cabin and get settled in before nightfall.

             
She stood and stretched and peered off to the north where she suspected the highway to be. A long, treacherous looking draw stretched out in that direction and Sara spotted what she thought might be a river, several miles off. If she could make it to that river, she knew that she would be home free. Fishermen, backpackers, kayakers, summer cabins; there was a plethora of opportunity to find help along any waterway.  Sara looked back in the direction of the cabin and quickly plotted a route through the forest  that would get her to the draw and eventually to the river that would deliver her from this nightmare. Confidence swelled in her chest as she climbed from the rock formation and set out for her last night in the cabin.

Mike met with Deputy Watts at the impound yard to retrieve Sara’s Honda. Sara’s best friend, Rachel, had graciously stayed behind to drive the car back to Eagle
. 

             
Duncan Winter stood at the gate holding a check that Mike had handed to him for payment. “I don’t feel right taking your money after all that has happened, Mr. Haller.”

             
Mike opened the trunk and started handing suitcases to Deputy Watts. “Do you think Jordan could use his truck to lift the front of this car so we can get the tire changed, Mr. Winter?”

             
Duncan Winter straightened at the mention of his employee. “No sir,” he said. “Jordan took the weekend off and went camping. My other driver is busy over in Virginia Dale. Sorry about that.”

             
Ryan Watts took a CD player from Mike’s hands and carefully balanced it on the luggage he had stacked. “He must have gone up with Sheriff Barnes. They have a hunting cabin near Pingree Park. Real remote. Can only get to it on foot or horseback.”

             
Mike removed a screw jack and small spare tire from the trunk. Holding both up, he looked to Duncan, “Thanks Mr. Winter, we will handle it from here.”

             
Duncan Winter nodded uncomfortably and walked back to his trailer.

Mike watched
Mr. Winter disappear through the office door before turning to Watts. “What’s your opinion of Duncan Winter?”

             
Watts leaned against the ice cream truck and looked toward the trailer. “Duncan’s a straight shooter,” he said. “Couldn’t find a nicer guy on the planet.”

             
Mike shook his head. “I don’t know. He seems…uncomfortable.”

             
Deputy Watts laughed and pushed himself off the truck, “Hell’s bells, Mike. How many times has that man had to pull you off his nephew?” Watts walked around the car and pulled the screw jack from Mike’s grasp. “Uncomfortable? The man wants to feel sorry for you, but you scare the living daylights out of him.”

             
Mike stood back while Watts jimmied the jack into place under the Honda’s front axle and began working the screw. He looked toward the mountains. “I don’t get it, Ryan.               You watch these movies where the main character always knows what to do and exactly where to be. Denzel sticks a bomb up some guy’s butt and gets all the information he needs. Liam Neeson shoots up a house full of bad guys to get his daughter back. And here I stand, a cop, without so much as a fucking clue whether I’m even in the right state or not.”

             
Watts sat back in the dirt and began loosening lug nuts. “Hell,” he said, grunting with exertion. “You don’t have to be in our line of work very long to realize bad situations rarely have happy endings.”

             
Mike deflated and turned away from the mountains.

             
Deputy Watts halted his work and stood. “Mike, you and I both know that abduction victims are usually murdered within hours of their disappearance. Guys like us rarely get to make the big rescue.” Watts brushed the dirt from his jeans. “Instead, we concentrate on finding the bad guys after the fact to ensure the cycle is broken.” He paused for a long moment before continuing. “We do everything in our power to make sure the next girl makes it to her destination safely. The reality of our work doesn’t make for a very exciting movie.”

             
Mike found a distant spot on the horizon to stare at. “I know,” was all he could think to say. “I can’t get my mind wrapped around Sheriff Barnes being a part of this. The sheriff I worked for for the past six years was an honorable man. He stood for everything that was good and moral, and he gave his life trying to protect his citizens.” Mike shook his head and blew a long breath through his nose, “Sometimes I think we are losing this battle.”

             
Deputy Watts rolled the spare tire over and set it into place on the wheel of the Honda. “I’m not convinced that Barnes is a part of this.” He began tightening the lugs with his fingers. “He may be covering something up, but I just can’t figure him for a serial killer.” Using the wrench, Watts tightened the lugs before unscrewing the jack. “I’ve got another theory that I am working on.”

             
Mike took the jack and lug wrench from Watts and followed him to the rear of the car. “What kind of theory?”

             
Deputy Watts lifted the flat tire into the trunk and stepped back for Mike to replace the tools to their proper locations. “I don’t feel comfortable sharing any details right now,” he said. “The timelines of these disappearances don’t add up, is all I’m saying.”

             
Mike stacked the luggage and stereo equipment back into the trunk before closing the lid. “Well,” he said. “I am waiting on some information from a friend of mine. I hope you will understand if I don’t include you in the events that that information leads to?”

             
Deputy Watts nodded and reached out to shake Mike’s hand. “Fair enough,” he said.

thirty-one

The cabin had become a place of comfort for Sara and she smiled when it came into view. She stood still for a moment and listened for any commotion that would reveal human presence. She heard nothing. Not a bird, or squirrel, or insect of any kind. The hairs on her neck straightened and a tingle raced down her spine. She stood dead still, afraid to move, not sure what had brought her nerves to the razor’s edge.  On her right thigh, the sharp bite of a Horsefly shook Sara from her trance. She slapped at the fly and her foreboding slipped away with the retreating pest.

             
Sara wasn’t sure what had made her anxious. Nothing seemed disturbed at the cabin and the sounds of wildlife slowly began to invade her consciousness. She was scared, she knew that. The last few days and nights had changed her profoundly. She hoped that someday she would return to some semblance of her old self. Sara Haller; the girl who was afraid of nothing and always saw the good in people she met. Right now, she would settle for, Sara Haller; the girl sitting in a bath full of bubbles with a hot pizza on the table waiting to be eaten.

             
Sara opened the door to the cabin and stepped in. It was obvious she was alone and she sighed at the relief. Shaking the home-made shoes from her feet she froze in place. The note she had written to the owner of the cabin was crumpled into a ball on the floor next to the foot locker. Nausea flooded her stomach as the sweet odor of wood and spice and sour sweat filled her nostrils. The man who had raped her had been in the cabin. Uncontrollable fear convulsed through her body and Sara let out a blood curdling scream. The cabin closed in on her, like a dead-fall trap sprung by an unsuspecting prey, and Sara bolted for the door. Her vision narrowed. The doorknob was all she could see as she reached and flung the door wide open. The heavy-set ghoul, who she only knew as “Pop”, stood there, grinning at the inevitability of Sara’s fate.

             
Adrenaline surged through Sara’s veins and she ran straight for the man blocking her path to freedom. Arms out, she felt the broken bones in her left wrist snap as she made contact and sent Pop flailing backwards into a tangle of sagebrush. He grunted loudly as he hit the ground and yelled as Sara passed over him. “Jordan! She’s here!”

             
Sara hit the tree-line running full speed. Branches tore at her clothes and exposed skin. Rocks and pinecones failed to slow her as they worked to remove all flesh from her bare feet. The sun was setting quickly and Sara’s only inclination was to get as far away as she possibly could. She could use the darkness to her advantage and hopefully survive another encounter with these men who wanted her dead.

thirty-two

Mike sat at a spacious dining room table on the main level of the Sightseer Inn and absent mindedly sipped ice water from a crystal glass. Brian and Trina Lang had invited him to eat dinner since he was their only guest.  The sun had set an hour earlier bringing an early autumn chill to the front range of Colorado. A crackling fire in the stone fireplace added a golden hue to the room.

             
Mrs. Lang placed dinner rolls on the table and sat close to Mike. “Has there been any word regarding your daughter?” Trina asked quietly.

             
Mike swirled the ice in his glass and thought for a moment. “No,” he finally said. “The search failed to turn anything up and the Sheriff seems to be washing his hands of the whole affair.”

             
Brian Lang stepped in from the kitchen and placed a dish of glazed baby carrots on the table, then took a seat across from Trina. “I understand that Sheriff Barnes has a witness who says two boys from Larimer County may have taken your daughter?”

             
Mike sat his glass down and took a plate of baked chicken from Mrs. Lang. “Thank you,” he said to Trina. “I talked to the sheriff’s witness and didn’t find him very credible. His story seemed,” Mike hesitated, “…manufactured. Maybe even a little coached.”

             
Mr. Lang took the plate of chicken from Mike. Refusing to break eye contact, he said, “That seems like a serious charge. Do you mind if I ask who the witness is?”

             
Mike thought for a moment. His boss, Sheriff Casey, suggested that Mike should act less like an officer of the law, and more like a concerned father. Mike took his advice. “The witness is a local farmer by the name of Connie Lohr. Do you know him?”

             
Both Brian and Trina Lang snickered. Trina spoke first. “Connie Lohr has been a drunkard for many years. I seriously doubt he had anything to do with the disappearance of your daughter.”

             
Mike shook his head. “I wasn’t suggesting he did. I just think his statement may have been contrived.”

             
Mr. Lang piped in, “Connie Lohr was a good kid. We all went to high school together. He and Hunter Barnes and Pastor Gary were good friends. Inseparable, really.”

             
Trina added, “They played football together. The Ranch Springs Riders were State Champions three years in a row back then.”

             
Mike spooned carrots onto his plate. “I wasn’t aware that Sheriff Barnes and Pastor Gary were such good friends. I haven’t seen them together once since I arrived in town.”

             
Brian Lang laughed. “Oh, they are not friends anymore. It seemed like after graduation, the close friendships just ended.”

             
Trina disagreed, “No, honey, I always said that something happened between those boys our senior year. It wasn’t long after football season was over that Connie Lohr dropped out of school and began drinking.”

             
Mike was interested. “It’s hard to imagine Pastor Gary and Sheriff Barnes ever being good friends.”

             
Mr. Lang took a dinner roll and buttered it. “Gary Popineau was a hell raiser in high school.”

             
Trina interrupted, “Now, Brian, Pastor Gary is a good God fearing man. It doesn’t seem fair to bring up those days.”

             
Brian Lang shrugged, “I’m not passing judgment on the man, honey, I am simply stating a fact.” Mr. Lang turned to Mike, “Popineau, Lohr, and Barnes were mischievous young men. They set the Mayor’s barn on fire their junior year and no one said squat about it because they were winning football games. Nearly burned the Mayor’s family up.”

             
Trina laughed uncomfortably. “Boys will be boys,” she said. “They all settled down after high school and became very important citizens of our town. Well, except for Connie.”

             
Mike wanted more information. “What ended their friendship? I mean, I still drink beer with my old buddies. I can’t imagine anything that would break that bond.”

             
Mr. Lang stopped chewing his food and looked at his wife for a bit. Finally, he said, “I’m not really sure. Right after they won the State Championship in Castle Rock, they just stopped hanging out together.”

             
Trina continued for her husband. “That’s when Connie dropped out and Pastor Gary started going to church every Sunday. We were all very happy to see him accept Jesus and become our Pastor.”

             
Mike asked, “What happened to Barnes after this falling out?”

             
Brian Lang shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing really,” he said. “He was always a bully of sorts. If he had a problem with someone, he made it his mission to straighten that person out. He’s the only one who is the same person today that he was back then. Unshakable.”